Strawberry Milk
by Phoenix Of Hope
Summary: Every DADA professor at Hogwarts has had a secret. Find out what this new teacher's secret is...


"Strawberry Milk" ~Ricca  
  
Kiera sat in the Great Hall, swinging her legs, sitting at her house table, Ravenclaw, of course, sipping a glass of strawberry flavored milk. It was by special request that she got it; the house elves always made sure it was there for her. After all, why wouldn't the Headmaster's granddaughter get the pink milk she loved so much?  
  
Of course, no one knew she was Headmaster Dumbledore's granddaughter, only herself and the headmaster. The teachers didn't even know, not even that nosy Professor McGonagall that butted into others' business all too often.  
  
Kiera hummed a tune to herself, blowing bubbles in her milk with the plastic muggle straw she had bought once at a muggle amusement park. Why they called them [I]amusement[/I] parks were beyond her, Kiera had thought it quite boring when she visited one once.  
  
'Kooky Kiera' the students at Hogwarts called her. Kiera was different than the rest of them; she was brilliant, no doubt, but she was a bit. spacey sometimes. She had her "head in the clouds" as some might put it. Kiera also didn't care much for human company, she found most girls her age quite boring, with all their nonsensical drivel about boys, clothes, and whatever was trendy at the time.  
  
Kiera was a loner, finding solace in her books. She loved to read, and would get lost in a book, almost literally. Prefects had to drag her to classes; otherwise Kiera would forget. "Kiera," her teachers would say, "Kiera, pay attention!" Of course, Kiera would be paying attention, just reading at the same time. The muggles called it multi-tasking, and Kiera made herself an expert in accomplishing it.  
  
"Kooky Kiera," a boy to her right mocked.  
  
"Cha?" Kiera looked at him, c*ck!ng her head to the side.  
  
"Can you pass the peas?" He tried to keep a straight face; it wasn't working.  
  
"There are no peas tonight, Clayton. I suggest you either go down to the kitchens, or choose something else." Kiera sipped her strawberry milk, the milk slowly snaking its way through her loopy straw. The boy named Clayton began to say something else, but Kiera blocked him out. It was just herself and her milk. That's all that mattered.  
  
Many years later, seventeen to be exact, Kiera Lovegood made her way through the halls of Hogwarts once again. She was currently the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, but not married, and had no kids. Her niece was a student at the school now, and her grandfather was still Headmaster. Everything was the same, and yet everything was different.  
  
Kiera loved her niece; she did so wholly and completely. More so than anything else, did she love that little girl. Just as Kiera had loved her sister-in-law, before she died, and just as she loved her brother. Kiera simply loved her family; they were all she had left now.  
  
Sitting in the Great Hall, slurping her strawberry flavored milk, her classmates made fun of her. Kiera hardened herself, as insults rolled off of her, much like the imaginary tears streaming down her face that fell into her cup. Imaginary tears were just like real tears, only saltier; they soured her milk, turning her stomach.  
  
Kiera stepped into her classroom for the first time as a Professor. What was she to teach these children? Why would her grandfather deem her worthy of the task of educating today's youth? Kiera shook her head; she must get ready. With minutes to the bell signaling the beginning of classes for the new year, Kiera planned her first lesson. And after her last few precious moments, Kiera's students arrived with the bell. Apprehension burned in the deepest pit of her stomach. Kiera could recognize a few faces, many of them looked like their parents, and on some she recognized facial expressions directed at her that she had not seen for years.  
  
Strawberry Milk. Where would she be without her strawberry milk? It was truly a comfort food, as Kiera sat through dinner with her peers once again. Snide remarks meant nothing when you had something comforting flowing through you. Strawberry milk, it was her lifeblood.  
  
Kiera cleared her throat. "Welcome class." She began her lesson, a nagging feeling in the back of her mind the whole time. She should not be here, not after what she had done; she had sworn never to set foot inside the castle again. And here she was [I]teaching[/I] the same students who tormented her so. For they all were the same; like father like son.  
  
Sipping steadily, the pink milk rushed through her straw. Kiera sighed contentedly, straw and strawberry. So alike, they go together perfectly.  
  
"Kooky Kiera" A girl snickered in her direction.  
  
"Cha?" Kiera looked down at her milk, it was almost gone.  
  
"Did you say you could see [I]horses[/I] at the carriages today?" The girl sneered with obvious skepticism.  
  
"Yes, they've always been there." Kiera sighed, glancing up at the girl speaking, who had long blond pigtails. [I] 'Appropriately named,'[/I] thought Kiera,[I] 'she looks like one.'[/I]  
  
"Oh really?" The girl giggled shrilly, drawing laughs from the listening students around them. Kiera was getting sick of them; they were so. mundane, if you could call it that. Unwittingly stupid.maybe.  
  
Kiera began her class by taking roll. It was a short list of names, only the 6th year Gryffindors. A few of the names were familiar, she had known many of their parents in her years at school, through the various years, and Kiera had a knack for remembering names. Especially the one that meant the most to her: Harry Potter, son of James Potter, her first love. Of course, James married Lily, they had Harry, and then they were killed. Kiera had foreseen it, she knew their deaths were imminent, in her dreams, and in her tarot readings for Lily.[I] 'If there was one thing Lily loved,'[/I] Kiera smiled as she came to Harry's name,[I] 'it was getting her fortune read. She never liked it when I told her she was going to marry James one day.'[/I] Kiera almost laughed at the memory. She had been in second year, when she met Lily Evans, who was then head girl. Kiera's grandfather asked Lily to spend some time with Kiera, find out why Kiera was having problems with her classmates.  
  
"Do you have your cards?" A kind, auburn haired young woman asked, her green eyes sparkling.  
  
"Yes." Kiera grinned; she liked Lily. Lily was nice to her, and was pretty. Lily didn't call Kiera 'kooky', and always seemed interested in whatever she had to say. Lily even liked strawberry flavored milk.  
  
"Harry Potter?" A boy with messy black hair, who was almost a spitting image of James Potter at 16, muttered assent to the fact he was present in her class. He leaned back on the chair, just as James did so many years ago. The thin, lightning shaped scar on his forehead was the only hint of the boy's past, why he was so special; and why he was so special to Kiera.  
  
Kiera sipped her strawberry milk for what would be the last time. It was Halloween, and as traditions proclaims, there was a Halloween feast; but it would have been the same as any other night for Kiera, except for the events that would happen that evening. Kiera could feel in her bones that something was not right. Not right at all.  
  
"Now class, having read what you've been taught through the years, and what this particular group has been through," Kiera let her gaze rest on Harry, and the two students sitting next to him, a boy and a girl. "I've decided to for us to move onto more practical uses of defense magic, though unlike two years ago, no illegal curses are to be used in this class. You are only to cast when I tell you to, and on what I tell you too. If you can follow these rules, I'm sure this year will be rather pleasant." Kiera smiled at her students, a few smiled back. Things might work out. Maybe.  
  
Pictures flooded her mind, chilling Kiera to the bone. She knew she hadn't lost consciousness, but she couldn't quite see. there was too much interference. Someone screamed, another was pleading. Then silence. broken only by a baby's wail. The Hall gradually came back into view, with all its happiness and bubbly conversation, none of them knowing what had just transpired. They were dead. [I]Dead.[/I]  
  
"Professor?" The girl sitting next to Harry, her back ramrod straight, was asking a question.  
  
"Yes, Miss Granger?" Kiera peaked at her roster, putting name to face. She would not forget from now on.  
  
"What are we to do if an illegal curse is used on us?"  
  
"You are to survive on what the supposed Professor Moody taught you, and on your wits. I will have no part in illegal curses. If you wish, you may do extra reading on it, and may have my classroom to practice in. But I won't have a part in it." Kiera's voice tightened, at the thought of illegality, particularly when it came to curses.  
  
Kiera's feet felt like lead. Her imaginary tears flowed; her world thrown out of proportion. She had killed them, she had thrown the curses, felt the malice, felt the thrill of murder. All from her seat in the hall. She approached the headmaster, sitting at the head table, enjoying his meal with his fellow educators.  
  
"Fair enough." The brown haired girl next to Harry was pacified. She reminded Kiera of Lily, and a heartstring tugged at the thought.  
  
"Yes, Kiera?" Her grandfather spoke. He always called her by her first name, not like the other students whom he called, 'Miss' and 'Mr.'. Kiera liked it that way; it was the only connection she had with him that was different from the other students'.  
  
"They're dead sir.[I] Dead.[/I]" Kiera spoke with a willowy voice, much softer than usual. But her grandfather heard her perfectly, for he suddenly went white, whiter than his snowy beard.  
  
"Kiera, come with me." Her grandfather used a certain tone with her, one she had never heard before. He led her into a chamber off the Hall, a cozy little room with armchairs and a warm, inviting fireplace.  
  
"Its Lily and James, isn't it?" The pain and hurt in Dumbledore's voice was obvious.  
  
"Now, our first lesson will be a review, tell me, what are the various ways to stop an attacker, man or beast?" Kiera asked, addressing her class. A few students raised their hands, others called out. Harry smirked and said nothing, as did the boy and girl next to him.  
  
"Yes. I saw it. Headmaster, I felt it. I was there. I cast the curses. I was angry, so angry. I wanted them dead. And cold, Headmaster I have never felt such cold in one's heart!" Real tears, ones that could sparkle and shine on her wet cheeks, cascaded down her face. The pain and regret, the fear and the guilt, overwhelmed her.  
  
"Kiera, you couldn't possibly have done it. You were in the Hall, having dinner. Tell me what you saw." Dumbledore motioned for his granddaughter to take a seat by the fire. Collapsing into the comforting confines of the armchair, Kiera felt safe. and told her story. Of how she and Lily formed a bond, when Lily spent time with her. How Lily was so kind to her, how Kiera had liked James so. How Kiera would write lengthy letters, never to be sent. How Kiera had met a stranger in Knockturn Alley her last visit. How Kiera never quite knew what she did at times.  
  
"Harry Potter, do you have anything to contribute?" Kiera asked him directly, as their list of counter-curses and jinxes grew. Harry's smirk deepened, and he spoke. Harry even sounded just like James.  
  
Kiera suddenly relaxed. Her head fell to her chest, and was still.  
  
"Kiera?" Headmaster Dumbledore asked, touching her hand. It sprang to life beneath his, and he quickly recoiled. Her hand reached for her wand, and her head rose, revealing her blank, unfocused eyes.  
  
"And you, Mr. Weasley?" Kiera addressed the redheaded boy next to Harry.  
  
"STUPEFY" Dumbledore had no choice; Kiera was no longer in control of herself. She couldn't stay at the castle anymore; she had to leave. Getting out a sheet of parchment from a desk in the corner, Dumbledore penned a note to an acquaintance of his, Gerald Lovegood; he could take Kiera in. But for the time being, she was sent to St. Mungo's. Kiera would pretend to be Gerald's sister, even though they begot a child together. Years later, the child's 'mother', Gerald's wife, died before the poor girl's eyes, and she too, was sent to St. Mungo's; Kiera never saw her child much after. But now that changed, she saw Luna more often; the girl was a student of hers now.  
  
The class was over. Kiera smiled broadly. It had gone well. No rotten memories consumed her mind, like apples left too long in a barrel. Flicking her wand, Kiera magicked herself a tall glass with a loopy plastic muggle straw filled with strawberry milk. The pink liquid tasted like it had years ago, the last time she had had it. Oh, how she missed the unique flavor! Some things you do not know you miss, until you try them again. 


End file.
